Love and Marriage
by Jessibelle811
Summary: Cedric and Sofia are on their honeymoon in a tropical paradise. It should be all sunshine and flowers from here on out, right? But what if they don't fall into instant connubial bliss? Cedfia Rated M.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I've done something unprecedented for me. I wrote this entire story before I posted. Yup, the entire thing is finished, complete, ready for regular updates. :) I'll be updating every other day, taking just a day in between for final editing purposes. There is this prologue, six chapters, and an epilogue.

Just an idea I had. This one has been sitting in a notebook for over a year now. What if Cedric and Sofia didn't instantly fall into blissful, sexual heaven on the first try? What if they're bad at it?

Stock disclaimer: I own nothing. And, as always, Sofia is a grown woman, at least 18+ and all that.

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Love and Marriage: Prologue

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 _So, that had been ..._

 _Um ..._

 _Bad._

Sofia stared at the blank canopy stretched over the bed, searching for another, kinder word, but finding none. Okay, bad. There really was no other word for it. The whole affair had been painful and messy and the only positive thing she could think was that it had been mercifully brief. Although she suspected that it wasn't supposed to be quite _so_ brief.

With the sheets clutched tight against her naked chest, she chewed on her bottom lip. If she held herself very still, then she could barely even feel the burning ache between her legs. Not the pleasant _I-want-you-so-bad-I-must-have-you-now_ sexyburn of desire. More an _ow-ow-sonofabitch-ow_ burn of pain. At least she hadn't cried. Although she felt like doing so now.

The heavy silence hanging over the room almost made her forget that she wasn't alone in her misery. Carefully, she dared to peek over at the man lying by her side. _My husband_ , she mentally corrected, their new status as husband and wife not but a few hours old. In the waning light she could just make out his profile, the long elegant line of his nose, the lighter color of his bangs. Cedric lay on his back, his eyes closed. She hoped, somewhat desperately, that he was blissfully unaware of her distress. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep, utterly pleased with the results of their first attempt at making love.

She hoped, but ...

The muscle in his jaw jumped as it clenched and his eyes squeezed shut far too tightly for the serene repose of sleep. So, he did know. She recognized what was surely an internal spiral of self-loathing and doubt circling his calculating mind.

Yeah, it had been bad. Terrible. Awful. Disastrous. Perhaps there were some other words for it after all.

She should say something. The silence had gone on too long. It was awkward, right? The not talking. She had to say something. Anything. Frantically, she searched her mind for some appropriate response. But, what could she say? Her normal sunny platitudes didn't seem appropriate.

She cringed as a foreign feeling of inadequacy descended. What was she suppose to say to her husband after something like this? She'd never been married before, let alone been intimate with another, so she didn't know. Her mother had given her a cursory education in what to expect, but not how to react afterwards. It seemed she shouldn't have to be told; she should possess some kind of intuitive sense about these things, but she was coming up distressingly blank. What kind of wife was she? She couldn't even reassure her own husband. Oh god, she didn't know what to say.

She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. "I'm pretty tired," she said, hardly knowing why, except that it was true, "I think I'll go to sleep."

He made a noncommittal, half strangled sound. Something like, "Uggh."

She hesitated a moment, then rolled over, facing the far wall. He hadn't moved. Barely acknowledged that she'd spoken. She felt so awkward, so out of depth that she couldn't work up the courage to lean over and kiss him good night.

Her own husband.

This was bad.

This was very, very bad.

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Author's Note: I know this is a new story to you guys and I should be working on other things, but for me this story is well over a year old. I've been meaning to write it forever. It's light and pithy, no chance it will be turned into another never-ending sequel spawning epic. Since this was just a little teaser, chapter one will be out tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews. :)

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Love and Marriage: Chapter One

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Sofia awoke to bright sunlight and the scent of salt on the balmy breeze. She sat up and stretched, hissing when her thighs rubbed together.

 _Oh, that's right_ , she remembered. She was a married woman now, a virgin no longer, having lost her maidenhead on her honeymoon. To her husband.

Her husband Cedric.

The thought made a smile tease across her lips despite the disastrous memory of the previous night. His name made her smile. The image of his face made her smile. Even his acerbic personality made her smile. Everything about him filled her with the pleasant buzz of joy. She loved him. He loved her. And now they were married, promised to each other for the rest of their lives.

Which meant they would have plenty of opportunity to work on what appeared to be a lackluster chemistry in the bedroom.

Her chin lifted as her thoughts became determined goals. She was no quitter. So, okay, the first time was bad, but then she really should have expected as much. Life wasn't some bawdy novel, spouting pretty lies where every man was an experienced lothario and every shy virgin became an instant vixen between the sheets. Almost any endeavor required practice before proficiency. She remembered how many times she'd fallen off a flying horse before she became an accomplished derby rider. This was no different. She'd just have to climb right back up on the ...

Her face heated, no doubt flushing a very deep shade of pink.

Well, anyway, they'd just have to try again.

Heartened to be back on familiar ground pursuing a goal, she bounded out of bed and set about making ready for the day. After washing and dressing, she floated out to the great room that combined both parlor and dining room. Their cozy honeymoon cottage squatted under a stand of palm trees, a modest distance from the sea. Windows dominated three of the walls, giving an unobstructed view of the sparkling ocean. She paused to take a deep breath, luxuriating in the clean, salty air.

Seated in the bay window nook, Cedric was unmistakable. He stood out immediately, a dark spot against the backdrop of whitewashed window frames and matching wicker furniture. She spied the cup in his hand and breathed in again, smelling something else on the air. Something so wickedly delicious that it made her eyes roll back in sensual delight: _Coffee_.

Raised to be a proper lady, Baileywick had foisted gallons of delicate, floral teas upon her over the years. It wasn't until a few years ago, when she began to take notice of the prickly Mister Cedric in a different light, that she realized he never partook of the light Kaldune blends. Instead the sorcerer always sipped dark Tangu coffee. Once she knew, she began gifting him with exotic blends of the dark roasted beans on every occasion, but not without the shameless bribe that he let her try it for herself. Her first cup had been heavily laced with sugar and cream, but she soon discovered, to her surprise, that she preferred it unadulterated. The blacker, the better.

The sentiment made her smile as she gazed at the dark figure of her husband. He appeared lost in thought, so she slipped up silently behind him. When she slid her hands over his shoulders, bending down to wrap him in an embrace, he jumped, sloshing coffee into his lap.

She kissed his cheek, offering a bright, "Good morning."

He swiped at his trousers. "Um, good morning?"

It sounded like a question and she noticed a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. He was obviously feeling self-conscious about the previous night, so she decided not to mention it least she further his embarrassment. Best to put the past behind them and move forward. She pretended not to notice the rigidity of his posture, propping her chin on his shoulder. She luxuriated in the freedom to touch him as she pleased. At the moment a very Amber-like squeal bubbled up her throat, but she kept it down. "So, what should we do today?"

Tentatively, he reached up, touching her arm where it lay across his chest. "I hadn't given it much thought. We can do whatever you'd like."

A wave of love tightened her throat. She buried her nose against the warmth of his neck, eliciting a strangled sound from him. Unable to deny herself from indulging in his scent, she took a deep breath, enjoying the heady aroma of coffee mixed with the elusive slightly herbal, slightly spicy scent that was all his own. The sudden urge to nibble his ear lobe had her biting her lip in restraint. She didn't want to scatter the fragile peace between them.

"I was thinking we could go for a walk." Her lips brushed his skin as she spoke and his hand tightened around her arm.

"That sounds," he had to clear his throat, "nice."

Sofia gave him one last squeeze before giving him his space. For as long as she'd known him, Cedric lived a solitary existence. He often eschewed her touches and embraces when she was young. Now she hoped to break into his resistance, because she very much enjoyed touching him, and thrilled at every little cuddle or caress he bestowed upon her, though rare they were.

They ate breakfast together, Sofia babbling incessantly to stave off any awkward silences. But she became quiet when they strolled down a pathway of broken shells towards the solitary town on the island. Cedric offered bits of information about local flora they passed, making her smile as he catalogued magical properties without thought. As they walked side by side, she dared to slip her hand into his, making him falter only a moment before regaining his stride.

"Town" was a generous term to describe the collection of shops, public offices, and whitewashed houses of Carruba Bay. A crescent shaped bit of land, the bay held a shallow sea of crystal clear water surrounded by tropical trees and white sandy beaches. Sofia choose the location because it held no specific pull for either one of them beyond the ubiquitous tropical honeymoon setting. It had seemed perfect at the time, offering no real means of distraction from the business of becoming acquainted as husband and wife. Now, she found herself taking a sudden and dismal interest in the landscape, without a real clue what the island had to offer by way of entertainment. The whole economy seemed predicated on honeymooning couples.

She browsed at a few shops, buying souvenir trinkets for her family. Cedric perused the shelves with marked disinterest, but then she could have guessed that shopping wasn't his thing, unless it involved an apothecary or charmachy. Truth be told, it wasn't hers either, but the morning wasn't half gone and she was frankly desperate for any excuse to keep them out and about. It wasn't for herself; she suspected being out of the cottage, and away from the expectations that went with a honeymoon suite, was what Cedric needed to relax. Aunt Tilly would say he looked as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

He did seem rather out of place in the tropical heat and bright sunlight. His dark slacks had to be stifling, but she could never imagine him dressed in the casual cut-off dungarees of the locals. At least she had convinced him to exchange his robes, heavy shirt and vest- necessities in a drafty castle- for a white linen shirt. Wonderfully, he'd also left off his gloves and tie, his shirt open by a few buttons at the throat. The rare peek of skin send a ridiculous flutter through her stomach. Odd, when her naked body had been pressed up against his just last night, but between the darkness and the sheets, she hadn't _seen_ much of him. Not nearly so much as she would have liked.

For her own comfort, she bought some sun dresses from a local woman, admiring the shorter skirt and light weight bodice that would make the sweltering heat more bearable. She also agreed to some skimpy contraption she assumed was a slip. It was white and nearly sheer and she really didn't see the point to it, but she threw it into her shopping bag mostly to make the sales woman stop saying words like "seductive" and "sexy". Sofia's face burned and she dared a glance over to see if Cedric had heard; he appeared unaware, staring out at the distance ocean, lost in thought.

She had her purchases delivered to their cottage by a local runner, and they ate lunch outdoors at a little cafe. Cedric picked at his food, while she tried to keep her eyes on her plate and not on the couple at the neighboring table, openly canoodling. Their display filling her with a strange mixture of aversion and allure. She didn't want to gape openly, but the obvious passion for one another drew her attention with a sense of longing. The specter of the previous night still hung over both their heads, creating an unspoken tension. She felt it every time she fell silent to take a bite of food or sip of water. Rather than dispelling the awkwardness, her babbling only seemed to heighten the one thing she wasn't talking about. Cedric barely spoke, replying in single word answers.

By the time lunch was over, she'd become a bit frantic about what to do next.

"Excuse me," she hailed their waiter, who began to clear away the dishes. "Can you tell me, are there any particular sights we should take in while here on the island?"

She half expected the man to look at her in disbelief, knowing full well what most tourists were here for, but he merely smiled pleasantly. "There's Rainbow Falls. No one should miss that."

"Oh good," she said, hoping she didn't betray too much relief. "How do we get there?"

The waiter gave them directions to a beat down path through the palm forest. It was a testament to how lost in his own mind her husband was because he didn't protest the idea of hiking through the woods. Cedric was many things, but "outdoorsy" was not one of them. He did know a lot about plants, though. An idea struck of how she might draw him out, and she began to pepper him with questions. As he began to talk, to give answers of more than a syllable or two, the awkwardness between them began to melt.

On a particularly steep bit of trail, he huffed, "I think I married a mountain goat instead of a woman."

Sofia snickered from her spot further up the trail, waiting for him to catch up. "Please," she teased, "A first year Buttercup Scout could make this climb. You just need to get out of your tower more."

"I have no doubt that you will rectify that, with all your wretched adventures."

He pulled up beside her, breathing hard but smiling that sly, half smile he only showed to her. She smiled back, because though he sounded grouchy, she knew him better. She knew him better than anyone. Leaning forward, she pecked a kiss over the tip of his nose, something she did often. And he always had the same reaction, shaking his head, scoffing like she'd lost her mind, but a pleased flush always brightened his cheeks. She took his hand, weaving her fingers between his. "Come on, I think we're almost there."

The hike proved itself worth it when they rounded the top of the trail and laid eyes on the aptly named falls. The forest opened up to a grassy cliff looking down on a narrow waterfall that caught the sunlight, creating a rainbow effect. They were the only people about and the seclusion made her suddenly very _aware_ of him. The cool mist rising from the falls fell lightly on her face and shoulders. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation, particularly where it kissed over her lips. When she opened them again, Cedric was looking at her, and unreadable expression shading his eyes.

She smiled at him and dared to come closer until she was standing just before him. Tilting her chin up in offering, he closed his eyes, dipping down to meet her. Their kiss was wet from the mist, and warm with the heat of their bodies. He was a spectacular kisser. Or perhaps it was just the way he kissed her, but it always felt perfect. If they could kiss this well, she just couldn't, couldn't believe that they couldn't make it work in the bedroom.

She let go of his hand to snake her arms around his neck, daring to tilt her head to the side. His hands touched uncertainly at her waist and she pressed against him in encouragement. When his tongue slipped between her lips, heat rose in her belly, tingling downward between her legs. The pleasant buzz, free from pain, made her optimistic. The idea of being taken right here, out in the open with the mist of the falls raining down on their naked bodies filled her with a devious thrill. She wanted that. She wanted that very much. Her fingers slid over his shoulders, rounding down his chest to tease over to the buttons of his shirt.

Cedric pressed her back, his face flushed and breath short. "I think-," he swallowed, "I think it's time we head back."

"Oh," she blinked, thrown by the tone of his voice, "Yeah. Alright."

She knew he didn't mean "head back" as in "let's head back for more privacy". He meant it as a distraction. That by the time they returned to the cottage, he hoped she'd forget all about this moment and where it would inevitably lead. Sofia tried not to let disappointment deter her. If he needed space, she could give him that. The heat between her legs fizzled to an unfulfilled ache.

 _I can do this_ , she told herself, as she followed his retreating back. She'd endured difficulties before and nothing had ever stopped her; she always found a way. And if anything was worth her devoted effort, it was her marriage. Her shoulders squared as she dug into the core of her determination. She could figure this out. She had to.

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Author's Note: Oh, poor self-conscious Cedric. And Sofia's not in any better shape. The girl knows how to get stuff done, but this sex thing is all new to her. Next chapter will be out the day after tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Glad you guys are enjoying this change of pace for me. Not quite my usual, but still an interesting exercise.

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Love and Marriage: Chapter Two

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On the long walk back from the falls the tension between them began to mount again. Their hike had taken a good portion of the afternoon, and dinner arrived shortly after their return, brought by a member of the hotel staff. Sofia thanked them before taking a seat at the table. The drone of the ocean and the scrape of silverware were the only sounds as they ate in strained silence. Sofia sipped her way through one glass of wine, and then another, grasping for anything to fortify her nerves.

When a porter came to clear away the dishes, she looked outside to see the sky awash in shades of red and purple. The sun sank slowly towards the horizon, painting the ocean in an surreal reflection of indigo and violet. The loveliness of it made her _ache_.

She slid her eyes shyly to the side, peering at Cedric from beneath her lashes. "Why don't we watch the sunset?"

That was romantic, proper honeymoon fair, right? She really had no idea, struggling out of her depth.

"Alright," he answered.

She bit back a sigh, tired of only getting one-word answers. Not only was it mildly irritating when she'd been trying so hard all day, but it wasn't like him. Cedric could wax verbose with the best of them, plus she loved the sound of his voice.

Despite the heat of the day, the breeze had turned cool. She gathered a spare blanket from the bedroom, wrapping it around her shoulders. She left her shoes off, enjoying the feel of sage grass and sand between her toes. The cottage porch had a low roof to shade the front of the house from the sun, but out on the "lawn" was a fire ring and a set of long, lounging chairs. The fire pit was already laid out with kindling a pile of fire wood at the ready beside the porch.

"A fire would be nice." She frowned, "I think I remember how to start one from my days as a Buttercup Scout."

Cedric's quelling look surprised her, and when he walked away into the hut she wondered what she'd said. But he returned in a moment, wand in hand. The logs went up with no more than a murmured word and the flick of his wrist. Her head sunk low between her shoulders, realizing she'd somehow managed to forget that she married a bleeding _sorcerer_ , for Merlin's Sake.

 _Splendid Job, Sofia_ , she thought acidly, _suggest he can't even perform a simple spell. That will help matters for sure_.

She wasn't sure if she should apologize or if that would only make things worse _. As if the day could get any worse._ Fighting off utter dejection, she huddled on to one of the lounge chairs, holding her blanket close around her shoulders, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and hide. She glanced up to find him staring distantly into the fire.

"Come sit with me, please?"

Inside, she cringed at the neediness in her voice, but he did come and sit. She snuggled up next to him like an affection starved kitten. He might need space- of which she wasn't entirely certain, only guessing- but she needed him. With some maneuvering she ended up lying on her side next to his stretched out form, her head against his chest. When his arms came about her shoulders, she sighed, feeling truly relaxed and content for the first time all day. The fire crackled and the sun sank slowly below the horizon. She watched, amazed, as a night's sky unlike any she'd seen before slowly unveiled its self, deepening with each passing minute. Stars filled the inky sky, shining brilliant like a million shards of crystal.

"Do you remember," she said, carefully breaking the silence, "the night we went to find the Midnight Blooming Moonflowers?"

"I think I can recall, yes," he said dryly.

"The night you proposed to me." She bit her lip, unable to keep from smiling at the memory. "The sky was filled with stars just like this. Surrounded by a field of lavender flowers in bloom under the full moon, it was so romantic."

"Romantic?" He huffed. "If you can call an allergic reaction romantic. The Moonflower only blooms once every fifty years, how was I supposed to know it's a distant cousin to the common bloody dandelion. I couldn't stop sneezing the whole time."

"It's the thought that counts. And it was very sweet."

"You're a lunatic," he huffed, but with amusement in his tone. "And then, as I recall, we got lost in the woods trying to find the path home, Miss Senior Wilderness Scout."

"That's Buttercup Scout." She covered her mouth, shaking with laughter. "We wandered around for hours . It was nearly dawn before we made it back to the castle."

"I thought the king was going to have me skinned alive."

She could well remember the look on her father's face, thinking Cedric had taken advantage of her. Little did her know Cedric had been the commensurate gentleman. It was Sofia who had hoped he would use their situation _to_ take advantage. "Oh, but Daddy calmed down after he heard you'd proposed and I accepted."

"Yes," he drawled, drawing her tighter to his chest. She settled her ear against his heartbeat, her own picking up speed. "How your parents ever acceded to you marrying me is beyond me."

"Because," she fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt, "They knew I was head over heels in love with you." She lifted her head to look into his face. "I _am_ head over heels in love with you."

The heartbeat beneath her palm hastened. A subtle worry showed its self in the crease between his brows. Did he not believed she loved him? Did her still doubt it? It had taken him a long time to believe it after the first time she'd told him. She licked her lips, leaning forward, sliding up across his chest. He met her half way, their lips touching in a subtle caress. Her hand crept up to the open collar of his shirt, fingertips brushing over bare skin. She didn't notice of who parted their lips first, but their tongues mingled, touching with a warm wet heat that echoed throughout her body. She settled a little more over him. Cedric groaned, making a noise of discomfort that had her pulling away.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." He shifted in his seat, his voice was uncommonly tight.

"Do you want me to move? Am I squishing you?" She hoped he'd say no and continue kissing her.

"Actually, it is getting a bit late. Perhaps we should go in?"

There was no mistaking the subtle thread of suggestion, though his eyes shifted down and away. She couldn't tell in the dark, with the shifting firelight, but she'd bet any amount of money that he was blushing. "Alright."

Her own heartbeat ticked up despite not wanting to get ahead of herself. She slipped off him, wishing for courage.

Inside the bedroom she folded the blanket across the end of the bed. Uncertainly, she began working free the buttons of her dress, not sure if she should go into the washroom to undress. Really, she wanted Cedric to undress her, but he sat on the opposite side bed, his back to her, taking off his shoes. She decided to stay where she was, striping down to her light shift. The weather, and the lack of a maid, meant she was going without cumbersome undergarments like corsets or petticoats. Already, she felt naked and a shiver slipped down her spine at the very implication.

Cedric peeled the shirt off his shoulders and she couldn't help staring. His back was smooth and unblemished, she wanted to reach over and touch him, but couldn't quite muster the courage. Was she allowed to do that? Should she simply ask? That seemed too bold, to simply proclaim her desires. She was forthwith in all other aspects of her life, but this ... This seemed alien and removed, holding little resemblance to life outside their marriage bed. Everything held a hint of taboo, and she didn't know what was normal beyond the most basic parameters that a man and a woman were made to fit together. When he stood to unbutton his pants, she quailed, darting under the covers, drawing the sheets up to her chin. A virgin no longer, she still didn't feel at all qualified to orchestrate the series of events necessary to repeat last night. As she chewed on her lip, Cedric climbed into bed in his under pants, lying rigidly at her side.

The seconds ticked by, lengthening to minutes that felt like hours. She suspected if either of them were to make the first move, it had to be her. Screwing up every ounce of courage, she turned to face him. He stared at the ceiling, and she was fairly certain he was holding his breath. Reaching carefully across, she caressed his cheek with trembling fingers, turning his face towards her. The raw, unguarded look in his eyes reflected a level of doubt and fear that made her heart squeeze.

"Cedric," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him. Then kiss him again. And again, harder. He began to respond, turning to her, setting a hand against her waist. His touches were still timid, unsure. She sidled closer, stroking an uncertain caress across the warmth of his chest. _Gods_ , she loved his skin, the way it burned beneath her hand, the crisp smattering of black hair. On instinct, she curled her fingers, raking her nails downward in the direction of his abdomen. He made a noise she couldn't interpret, not sure if he meant for her to do so again, or perhaps stop. Maybe it didn't feel good?

He was relatively still beside her; she wished he'd show some greater emotion, some passion, to tell her what he wanted, what he liked. Tired of feeling helpless and out of control, she gulped down her fear, deciding to do something drastic. Taking the plunge, she sat up and drew her shift off in one swift movement. Cedric blinked in surprise before his eyes swept over her naked body, lingering at her breasts.

She laid back down, reaching for him, drawing him over top of her. They were going to get through this, together.

* * *

The second time was marginally better.

If the margin in question were very slight.

She stared at the far wall feeling desperately lonely. Cedric lay not a foot from her, and yet the distance between them wasn't something that could be breeched by physical space. The loneliness around her felt like miles, cut off from him by a wall built of silence, held together by all the words that went unsaid. Kept going unsaid, mounting with each passing moment. The weight felt smothering.

She wanted to cry.

This time the uncomfortable ache between her thighs didn't linger. But the memory of it, that sharp bite of pain that dulled to an aching burn, frightened her. Was there something wrong with her? All her friends, married or experienced, had warned her about the first time. It'll hurt, they said, nothing to be done about it. But the second time, that shouldn't hurt, should it? Granted it had hurt significantly less than the first time. The discomfort might be helped if she could relax, but she didn't know how.

The kissing helped. She liked the kissing; it made her feel warm and tingly, building a heat in her belly, but it wasn't enough. She needed ... more. What, she wasn't entirely sure. If only she knew what it was. She'd do anything to bridge the distance between them.

The bed, creaked, shifting beside her and immediately closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

 _What is wrong with me?_ Only their second night of marriage and already she was avoiding him. Lying to him. Still, she concentrated on keeping her breath deep and even while listening to the little sounds of him moving about, presumably putting on his clothes. His footsteps came closer, around her side of the bed and she kept her eyes closed, afraid now he'd discover her duplicity.

A puff of warm breath drifted over her face and she realized he was crouched down right beside her. Feather soft fingers touched her cheek in a caress so subtle she might not have felt it if every nerve ending wasn't tuned up and vibrating in anticipation.

Did he know she was awake? Was he trying to illicit a response? No, it seemed as though he was taking pains not to disturb her.

 _Say something_ , her mind prompted. _Open your eyes. Pretend you just woke up, if you must, but say something._

She wanted to turn her face, to kiss his fingertips, but now she was frozen with uncertainty. She'd rarely suffered from doubt in her life, but it was crippling her now.

His touch left her cheek and the moment vanished. She kept on pretending slumber, trapped now by her own lie. Just as softly as before she felt his lips press against her temple before he rose and left the room.

Her eyes opened, certain her ruse had been believed. Cedric didn't know she was awake, merely offering a secret caress and kiss to his sleeping wife. She bit down on her lip to stifle any sound as the tears finally came, rolling down her temple, soaking into her pillow.

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Author's note: I feel so, so mean. :( This scene where Sofia pretends to sleep was actually the first one I ever wrote for this fic well over a year ago. It's the idea that started the whole thing.

I love, love, love your reviews! Every single one of them. :)


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry, I wanted this out yesterday, but busy weekend plus neck and shoulder pain Sunday night meant I couldn't concentrate for the final edit. And this chapter decided to be a bit of a brat.

I love your reviews. Just to answer a few questions/ inquires: Yes, we will, eventually get to Cedric's POV, but you have to wait a few more chapters.

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Love and Marriage: Chapter Three

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Sofia had thought things couldn't get any worse than the awkward tension between them the previous day.

She was wrong.

Cedric wouldn't so much as meet her eye and every attempt to engage him in conversation was met with stoic, one-word responses. She gave up half-way through breakfast, settling down into her own sense of melancholy. She could _see_ him retreating from her, going behind those protective walls that had served him through years of disappointment and derision. She could see it, but she didn't know how to stop it.

After the meal, he buried his face behind a book and didn't come back out. Unable to withstand the silence, she went outside to lounge in the sun, carrying a book of her own. Amber had slipped it into her luggage, saying something about giving her "some ideas". She'd had shrugged it off at the time, too nervous with pre-wedding jitters to give it much thought. Now she realized what her sister had been alluding to as she cracked the spine and discovered it a tawdry work of fiction. She'd partaken of such books as a blushing fourteen year old, ravenously curious about sex, only getting information through gossip and hearsay. The salacious tales had seemed like the fairytales of her youth, but _better_. The "prince" was always a man a great skill when it came to woman, and the "princess" always the feisty, passionate sort in need of taming. It never sat exactly right with her, but she choose to think of their congress as mutual, rather than submission. In any case, she grew frustrated with such stories as she got older, tired of the supposed self-possessed heroine who always turned into a limp rag over some overbearing brute with too many muscles.

But, seeing as how she had nothing better to occupy her time with. And she was, perhaps, a teensy bit curious, given her status as a new bride. She settled into the lounge, all too eager for a means of escape.

The problem, she soon discovered, was that when the time came the heroine simply laid back, wracked by seemingly endless waves of pleasure while the hero manipulated her body with an almost supernatural awareness of how to pleasure a woman. Not to mention the conflict was something easily resolved if the two would just talk to one another. Sofia rolled her eyes thinking, _if he would just ask her what the viscount was doing in her bedchamber this whole mess could be sorted in a few pages_. Not much of a story, she supposed, but it made a hell of a lot more sense.

Half way through she tossed the book aside, her frustration stemming more from her own problems than those of the characters. The sun had risen to its zenith, the air stagnating for want of a breeze. Despite the shade of the porch, she sweated. The cool ocean waves breaking on the beach called to her.

She shot the cottage a glance, thinking about inviting Cedric to join her, but she couldn't really picture him frolic among the surf. Right out on the beach she stripped off her sun dress, wearing her bathing suit underneath. Practicality had always won out over modesty and she'd fashioned a suit off similar styles she'd seen in her friend Lei-Lani's kingdom of Hakalo. A bandeau tied over her breasts, the bottoms shorter than any pantalets she owned.

Wading out, the cool water curling around her calves and thighs helped ease her mind. She swam out in long, strong strokes, going far enough that there was nothing beneath her feet but the cooler current of deep water. The pull to use her amulet, to turn into a mermaid and disappear for a few hours under the waves was tempting, but she resisted. If Cedric did ever pull his nose out of his book, he'd probably panic. _But then again_ , she thought unkindly, _perhaps not, as he doesn't even seem aware of my existence_.

The water lapped over her, the sun warming her back. The ocean hugged her like a lover, caressing, igniting nerve ending everywhere. She wanted this. She wanted touch. She wanted sensation. She wanted to be stroked, and petted, and cuddled. She didn't want physical intimacy regulated to the bedroom; she wanted it woven throughout her marriage, throughout her life. She didn't want to _ask_ to touch her husband, she wanted to touch him when she liked, how she liked, but because he wanted her to. Because he enjoyed it. Because he wanted the same things she did.

She remembered the ghost of a kiss Cedric had laid to her temple last night while she pretended to sleep. That he could show her such tenderness made her throat tight and tears burned her eyes.

She turned over to float on her back, closing her eyes against the sun. Sadness washed over her, too strong to fight. Too much to push down, too much to withstand on her own. Her dreams of wedded bliss were crumbling around her, shattering like glass, more fragile than she could have ever imagined. She had thought that they were unbreakable.

Their relationship had been met with resistance from all side, but they'd endured. Even Cedric had resisted at first, very confused and deeply troubled by his changing feeling towards her. She understood. She was younger than him by over a decade and a half, he'd watched her grow up from a child, had a hand in her education at times, that those feeling could turn romantic disturbed him greatly. She never saw it that way, certain that he'd never had a single inappropriate thought about her before she came of age.

Well, at least not inappropriate in _that_ way. Trying to steal a magical artifact from a child was a whole other set of inappropriate. But they'd been over all that. When he'd unexpectedly confessed to his past misdeed, misdeeds she'd never even suspected him of, she'd listened patiently, albeit it a bit shocked, trying not to jump to conclusions. It was the look on his face that made her pause, like he'd resigned himself to her hatred towards him once she knew the truth. Lucky for him that she'd never been particularly good at holding a grudge, and she was already desperately in love with him. It had taken a few days to process that their entire friendship hadn't begun at all on the grounds she'd thought. But, once she'd given it due consideration, she'd forgiven him all his past actions. The look on his face then had been one of a man who'd just been issued a stay of execution.

How was it possible that they could talk about things like his extremely misplaced desire to overthrow a kingdom, _her kingdom_ , but not this? Why was intimacy so hard? If Cedric could work up the courage to tell her about the amulet, why couldn't she be just as brave and just _talk_ to him? But she couldn't. The words seemed to lock in her throat, and his avoidance of her wasn't helping her courage at all. Procrastination never helped, the problem would still be there later, usually only growing bigger in absence, but she quailed at the thought of going into their cottage. Of trying to bridge the wall he'd erected around himself.

She owed him better. She owed _them_ better. She'd always been so eager to help anyone at anytime. So why was it so hard to try to help her own marriage? Perhaps, because the stakes had never felt so high before.

* * *

When he went straight back to his book after dinner she thought she might scream. Or cry.

"Cedric?"

"Hmm?" He grunted, not looking up at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering where to begin. "I was just wondering ..."

Everything about him, his voice, his body language screamed _I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it_. Should she force the issue? Make him talk to her? What would she say to him? Did she even know what it was she wanted? _I want you to touch me. I want you to kiss me. I want you to show me that you still love me._

The last thought came out of nowhere, making her freeze. Did she really think Cedric didn't love her anymore?

He tucked his finger between the pages of his book, holding his place before he turned to look at her. "You were wondering, what?"

She blinked, her mouth suddenly dry. "I- I was wondering if I could borrow your wand?"

"Oh. Why?"

"I want to take a bath. I'm all salty from the ocean." _You could join me_. The thought flashed through her mind, but she pushed it down, not wishing to court open rejection.

"Yes, it's, um," he paused, rubbing the space between his eyes as he yawned. She softened a little towards him, realizing just how tired he looked. Last night after a good, long cry she'd fallen asleep alone, and woken up the same way. Had he slept at all? And where? She gave the couch a dubious glance, hoping her silence hadn't driven him that far away. "I think I left it on the dresser."

"Thank you," she murmured, hesitating a moment before resting her hand on his shoulder, leaning down to kiss his cheek. The smile she gave him wasn't her usual, it didn't quite reach her eyes. He looked at her with an unreadable expression, giving the hand on his shoulder a quick squeeze before turning back to his book.

* * *

With a few waves of his wand, she filled the claw footed tub with hot water. From the shelves she selected a few bath oils, honeysuckle and lavender. The scent filled the room. She breathed deep, searching for calm. The water was just right when she slipped in, washing the salt from her body and her hair. When every bit of her felt clean and silky, still she lounged in the cooling water, ignoring the fact that she was just stalling for time.

She dreaded going to bed, not because she fear a repeat of the past two nights, but rather she feared that Cedric wouldn't even want to try. Because despite the disastrous results of their first attempts, she still very much wanted to _try_. She just _knew_ that it could get better. Not just because she'd always heard it was a pleasurable activity, but because she could sense they were missing something. And they really needed to come to some means of solution because this thing - the sex-thing was slowly tearing them apart.

The memory of the pain, a sharp bite that turned into an burning aching, made her question, _was it her_? Cedric seemed to _function_ just fine. He did everything she'd ever been told to expect. Perhaps it was her, that she was ... deficient, somehow. Did he, and here the damn tears burned her eyes again, did he regret marrying her? Was his continued silence a signal of his disapproval with her as a wife? Had she proved defective at one of the most basic tenants of marriage. She'd assumed she'd enjoy sex, but ...

Maybe she just didn't.

Maybe she couldn't.

Maybe it would never get better.

 _Calm down_ , she told herself, on the verge of panicking. She needed to think about this reasonably. She was a healthy young woman, and she'd never had any problem enjoying certain stimulating sensations on her own.

She shot the unlocked door a glance, but if Cedric wouldn't so much as look at her, she doubted he was about to walk in on her bathing. Forcing back any whispering doubts, she slipped her hand beneath the water, inching her fingers over her hip, down between her legs. Without ceremony, she slipped a finger inside herself, brow furrowing at the relative lack of sensation. It didn't hurt, but it also didn't feel very stimulating.

Okay, perhaps a different tactic was required. The bath made her skin soft and scented, but also slick with oil. Carefully, almost self-consciously, she ran a hand up her arm, experimenting with touch and speed and pressure. Her fingers slid up her shoulder, caressing her neck, the elusive, silky feeling taunting her skin, making it sensitive.

Her breath came heavy as her fingers toyed over her skin, teasing downward until she cupped her own breasts, feeling their weight. She'd never really given them much consideration, never worried about their shape and size, their desirability. Her fingertips rounded her nipples, sliding over and around them, making her gasp at the feeling. When aroused, she know they could be sensitive to touch and temperature. As good as the sensation felt, her imagination churned, bring forth a fantasy that it was not her hands, but those of her husband that caressed her now. That he knelt behind the tub, his sleeves rolled up, caressing her oiled shoulder and arms, rubbing teasing little circles down her chest before taking her breasts in his warm palms. She pinched her own nipples, moaning at the image. She pictured his nose nestled beside her ear, his lips kissing her jaw.

One hand went beneath the water, down her belly. It didn't go directly to the ache between her thighs. Not yet. Fingertips teased over her hip, skating down to her knee before slowly- _so slowly_ \- coming up the inside of her thigh. She opened her legs wider, _inviting_ \- She imagined it was his fingertips sliding up and down the length of her feminine folds, parting the petals of her sex, slicking over the unnamed point of pleasure hidden there. She pictured his other hand stroking her breast, toying with her nipple in teasing caresses that stole her breath. _Gods, she wanted exactly that_.

She smothered a moan behind tightly sealed lips, wondering what Cedric would think if he came in to investigate, finding his new wife touching herself in the tub. Pleasuring herself. The idea of him walking in on her should fill her with embarrassment, but she found the idea unbearably arousing.

She wanted _him_ , not her hand. But she kept on, too intent on reaching release, on feeling real pleasure. Each pass over that pleasurable nub growing tighter until she felt the desire, the _need_ , to have something to clench around. She'd never really done that before, finding pleasure enough in rubbing that certain little spot. But now she'd been with Cedric, and her body wanted _him_. The idea of him inside her right now appealed to her in a way it hadn't before. Pushing her other hand down, she tried sliding a finger inside again, and this time it felt - _oh it felt-_ it felt wonderfully warm and filling and exactly what she needed. She pressed her cheek against the cool rim, biting her lip as her hands moved. The heat, the need, grew, coalescing to a point near pain. Her neck arched and she sobbed out a moan as quietly as she could, finally reaching the point of release, her body contracting warmly around her fingers.

She sank back down into the water, going limp in the aftershock of her orgasm. Flushed and panting, she gripped the edge of the tub, blinking in astonishment. She wanted Cedric, _now_. Right now. If they tried now, with her body warmed and relaxed, if would feel ... she couldn't imagine exactly what it would feel like, but she had to imagine it would feel _good_.

Encouraged by her solitary success, she didn't bother to dry off, wrapping the thin towel around her, rushing into the adjourning bedroom. She was intent. On a mission. She'd tackle him if she had to, rub up against him shamelessly while soaking wet and naked if that's what it took to make him notice her.

"Cedric, I-"

She came to abrupt stop, finding him stretched out on the bed, where he was ... he was ...

Asleep.

He was asleep! She stared, too stunned by this turn of events to say any more. Her body primed and ready and _screaming_ to be fulfilled, and he was asleep. Her fists clenched at her sides and she fought back the childish urge to stomp her foot and shriek.

He was wearing all his clothes, the book open across his chest, and snoring lightly. A keen suspicion crept in, remembering her ruse from the previous night. It hurt to think he might be pretending just to avoid her. Just as she had done to him. But, then, earlier he looked so tired, like he hadn't had a good night's rest in days.

She heaved a sigh, stuffing down her disappointment. Taking up the book, she laid it gently on the nightstand, marking his page with a slip of paper. Tenderly she drew the spare blanket up over him before getting dressed. The night was balmy, so she slipped into the diaphanous slip-nightgown thing the village sales woman foisted upon her. It was thin and nearly sheer, just right for the humid temperature. The fabric whispers against her skin, feather soft, but the heat in her had faded. She sighed at the loss of what might have been if he'd been awake.

Quietly, she climbed in beside him, leaning over to plant a soft kiss against his sleeping mouth.

"Mmm ... Sofia?" he rumbled, turning towards her touch. His arm reached out, drawing her to him. A thrill raced through her, but he wasn't truly wake. His arm lay heavy across her waist, But she snuggled up to his side regardless, enjoying the too-rare moment. This was nice, too, the cuddling. Why couldn't it be like this between them when they were both awake? Perhaps, even if they couldn't work out the rest, this could be enough. The intimacy and comfort from this could replace the rest, couldn't it? It was at least a possibility, right? If nothing else, they could have this. She hoped, because she really, really needed something.

* * *

Author's Note: Next chapter, I get to play with Sofia's amulet. I liked the idea of sending my favorite princess to her to help with this little problem. Any guesses who it is?

I will try, try being the operative word (I have a chiropractor appointment in the morning), to get the next chapter out tomorrow since I messed up my posting schedule. But if not tomorrow, then it will be out Wednesday.

Leave me a review. I live for those little pings on my phone alerting me to a new email. :D


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you guys for the reviews. I know Cedric is being annoying, but we'll get to him in the next chapter.

Got this done faster than I anticipated, so here you go ...

* * *

Love and Marriage: Chapter Four

* * *

Sofia was really very tired of waking up alone on her honeymoon. She shifted up, getting out of bed, thinking how she wanted, just once, to wake up with her husband's arms around her. For him to hold her like he did last night, except when he was awake.

On the nightstand she found a mug full of hot, black coffee with a note tucked underneath:

 _Sofia,_

 _I went for a walk this morning. Not sure when I'll be back. I'm-_

 _I love you,_

 _Cedric._

She read it over again, simple as it was, because for its brevity, it was obvious it had taken some time to write. There were false starts scribbled out, and at the end she wondered if he meant to write _I'm sorry_ , but that too was crossed out. She was so tired of trying to guess at his mood, his meaning. She crumbled the paper in her hand, fighting back tears. It wasn't enough to feel alone on her honeymoon, now she really was alone.

The humidity had grown over night, lending a stifling feel to the unmoving air. She threw a white sundress on over her slip before tying her hair up off the back of her neck. She went through the motions of eating breakfast, nibbling on a muffin with no real appetite. Out the windows clouds gathered in the sky, white for now, but grey on the horizon. Even the waves seemed subdued, quietly lapping the shore, and the birds barely cheeped in the trees. All the quiet solitude threatened to choke her. In desperation, she tried to distract herself with Amber's book. But before long, the tawdry exploits of Captain "Beau" Beauregard Blackwell, the rogue pirate, and Annabelle Sterling, the feisty tavern wench turned stowaway, had her throwing the book across the room in frustration. It hit the back of a chair with a satisfying smack, crumpling to the floor. The pages splayed and bent like the wings of a broken bird. The small act of violence wasn't nearly enough to express the turmoil building inside.

Her charming honeymoon cottage was beginning to feel very much like a jail cell. She smoothed out Cedric's note, scribbling one of her own across the back. She had to get out, feeling like the very walls were judging her.

She turned left off the trail, towards the town and the botanical gardens beyond. Part of her hoped to come across Cedric, but an equal part hoped she wouldn't. Her composure was slowly crumbling, teetering between wanting to scream at the top of her lungs or burst into wild tears. In truth, she wished to do neither while surrounded by curious locals, so she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, hugging herself despite the heat. The dress vendor from the other day waved as she passed.

"Good morning," she smiled widely, winking. "Where is your husband, eh? Sleeping in?"

She giggled as if expecting Sofia to giggle with her. Instead she managed a wan smile, scurrying for the seclusion of the tree lined path. She didn't know where her husband was. She was on her honeymoon, and all alone. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. Under a low hanging tree she found a wooden bench and sat down, hoping to remain unseen by anyone that might happen by. She didn't want to explain to some well-meaning stranger why she was hiding here, crying. Or worse, some blissfully happy newlyweds out on a stroll, taking a sojourn from their bouts of mind-blowing sex.

Her shoulders shook as another sob heaves out. She tried to get control of herself, wiping her streaming eyes on the corner of her shawl. In the shade and patchy sunlight she almost didn't notice the light- no, not a light, a glow shining low in her sight.

 _Oh, no_ -

She looked down. The glow was coming her, from the amulet on her chest.

 _Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! Not a princess. Not now_. She didn't want to talk to princess about this particular problem. She clutched the stone between her palms, trying to _will_ it not to send someone. The glow slowly faded between her clenched fingers. She held her breath, daring to peer around and saw ... no one.

She let out the breath she'd been holding, the tension easing from her shoulders.

"Hello, Princess Sofia."

Sofia cringed, recognizing the voice even before she turned around. For some reason the choice surprised her for a moment, but then what princess was she expecting to help give her sex advice?

"Hello, Princess Belle."

Belle stepped lightly through the flora, stopping to smell a lovely tropical bloom. "You're much older than the last time I saw you," she remarked.

"Yes, much," she blushed. "I'm married now. On my honeymoon, actually."

Bella took a seat beside her, picking up Sofia's hand to admire the set of bands on her ring finger. An engagement ring of silver, set demurely with amethyst stones nestled below a darker band of unknown metal etched with ancient symbols. "The wedding band is a family heirloom. His family," she explained, "He's a sorcerer."

"Well congratulations. I hope you found your true love."

Despite all that's happened, despite all her sadness, Sofia couldn't help but smile. "I hope so too."

Birds chirped in the trees. Sofia fidgeted, but Belle looked serenely unaffected by the relative silence or the oppressive heat.

"So," the brunette princess prompted, "Do you want to tell me why I'm here?"

Sofia looked at the other woman in question. Whenever a princess had been summoned before, they always knew why. Often they knew more than she did. "You don't know?

"I'm asking you to tell me."

 _Oh_. She stared down into her lap, twisting the rings around her finger, not sure where to begin. "I'm not sure how to talk about it."

"But I think that's what you need, to learn how to talk about it. And not just with me."

Sofia let out a long, shaky sigh. "I think I'm just realizing there is so much that I don't know."

"Well," Belle folded her hands in her lap, giving the young woman a soft smile, "You know my philosophy. If I don't know the answer, I find a book that does."

Sofia chuckled. "I tried that."

"Perhaps you were looking in the wrong book."

"Perhaps," she conceded, still avoiding the real question.

"Do you know why I'm here, Sofia?"

"The amulet-" she began, but Belle was already raising a hand to stop her.

"No, I mean, do you know why _I'm_ here, instead of some other princess?"

"Honestly?" She shook her head. "I have no idea."

"What do you know about my story?"

Sofia thought hard, searching for the right answer, but unsure what it was. "Like me, you weren't born a princess. You lived in a village, just as I did, but with your father. When he disappeared you found him at the castle of the Bea- I mean, Prince Adam."

"And," Belle interjected, "What do you know about Adam?"

"Oh," Sofia frowned, surprised by the question, "He was cursed by an enchantress after being, well, after being rather rude to her."

"Yes," Belle laughed. "And?"

"And, his curse was that he would remain a beast until his twenty-first birthday or until he learned to love someone for who they were on the inside and earn their love in return. You fell in love with him and broke the curse."

"Just in time, too."

Sofia shook her head. "But, I don't understand what your story has to do with me."

"Did you know," the older woman said thoughtfully, "That Adam was under his curse for ten years?"

"Ten years?" Sofia paused to think. "But that doesn't seem right. If the rose bloomed until his twenty-first birthday, that means he was only eleven when the enchantress curse him."

"Hmm," Belle sounded without comment, but Sofia could read her carefully hidden displeasure.

"Well, that doesn't seem fair, cursing a boy for not letting a stranger into the house."

"Be that as it may," she said diplomatically, "It meant that he spent many years alone. And then we fell in love and were married fairly quickly."

"And you lived happily ever after?" Sofia ventured, sensing things were not quite so simple.

"Not exactly. Or, rather, not at first. Spending your teenage years as a cursed beast doesn't afford much opportunity to learn about women. And growing up without a mother, I didn't know much more."

"Ah," Sofia nodded, beginning to see why the amulet had sent her. "What did you do about it?"

"We worked it out," she smiled with meaning, "Together. The most important thing was that we talked to each other. That we told each other what we were feeling and didn't bottle it up. Silence can build a wall between you, Sofia, one that can be very hard to dismantle."

The memory of her suspicion last night, thinking Cedric was pretending to be asleep because that is what she had done. And all the silence, worse than any words they could have said. "I think I see what you mean."

"Just remember," the other princess stood and Sofia knew their time together had come to an end, "In any good relationship, communication is the key."

She nodded, knowing the answer had been in front of her all along, as it often was. She just needed a little help and reassurance to see it. "Thank you, Princess Belle."

"Anytime, Princess Sofia."

Sofia turned away, knowing she wouldn't see the other woman depart, just as she never saw them arrive. She knew Belle was right, she had to talk to Cedric no matter how hard or embarrassing it might be. The urge to rush straight back to the cottage was strong, but them Cedric wouldn't be there. The day felt long, but the morning was not half gone yet.

As hard as it was, she made herself pause and think. It wouldn't do to go rushing into anything with only half the solution. She knew she _needed_ to talk to Cedric, but she didn't know _how_. She had many questions, but very few answers. What was it Belle had said, if you don't know the answer, find a book that does. Amber's garish romance novel was all filler and little substance. She needed real, tangible information. She'd seen a small library in the village, perhaps she could start there.

* * *

"Can I help you, dear?"

The woman behind the circulation desk gave Sofia some pause. With a slight stoop and grey hair pulled up in a frizzy bun, she looked like someone's sweet old grandmother.

"I hope so." Sofia approached the desk, marshalling her courage. Still, she dropped her voice low. "I'm look for information of a, um, particular nature."

The librarian put her pen down, turning her full attention to her. Sofia tugged at the hem of her dress.

"Well, you see," she sputtered, not sure what to say, "I, um..."

"Yes, dear," the woman nodded in encouragement.

"Ah, okay, well, I'm recently married, you see. On my honeymoon actually, and, um ..."

The woman's mouth slid into a crooked smile. "It's alright, dearie, I understand."

"You do?"

"Oh, honey, Carruba Bay is the honeymoon capital of the world. You are certainly not the first confused young thing to come here looking for answers."

Sofia let out a nervous little laugh, relaxing a little. "I'm not?"

"Oh, no! I'll just be happy if you tell me your mamma told you more than to lie back and think of the home country."

She couldn't help but laugh. "She did tell me a bit more than that, basic anatomy and reproduction and all, but not much else."

"That's a sight more than some come in here with. So, what is it you need to know about?"

She felt her embarrassment creep back in. "I know the basics, not much more. And I'm not sure my husband, ah ..."

"Knows what he's doing?" The elderly librarian sighed, giving her a surprisingly shrewd look. "Most don't, honey. Well, we've got books on that too."

"You do?" Her brows went up, slightly impressed.

"Oh, my dear," the woman laughed heartily, "I've been the librarian here for thirty-five years, and it's my job to make sure we carry the book our patrons need. Our patrons tend to need information of a 'particular nature', as you put it. Come right this way."

Sofia followed her into the stacks and the woman introduced herself as Mrs. Imbry. Surprisingly spry for her apparent age, she chatted a streak as she pulled books from all over. When Sofia's arms were full, she guided her to a secluded alcove to look them over.

"If none of that suits you, come find me at the front desk and I can help you sort out something that will."

"Thank you," Sofia said with feeling.

As Mrs. Imbry shuffled away, Sofia sorted through her pile. She decided to start with the basics of anatomy as review, thinking she already knew all she needed. But when she opened a slender book containing anatomical sketches, all of a particular bend, she found she knew less than she thought she did. Turns out the spot she'd rubbed so enthusiastically in the tub last night did have a name after all. She sighed and settled in for a lot of reading, wondering what else she didn't know.

* * *

Author's Note: Obviously, I'm referencing the 1992 animated version of Beauty and the Beast, with all its little, lovable idiosyncrasies. Like the Beast's curse being until he's 21 and Lumière singing "10 years we've been rusting" indicating that the castle has been under the curse for that long. Belle was always my favorite princess, and I figured I could make the case that her and newly human Adam got off to a rough start. I'm going to go see the live-action version this weekend. I can't wait. :)

Next chapter we get to Cedric's POV. Yay! I'm shooting for an update on Thursday.

By the by, the romance novel I keep referencing isn't based on a real book. I'm just winging it.

As always, loving the reviews. :)


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: So this is longer than I intended. Cedric got away with me, as he often does. I think I left him out of the majority of the story purely for brevity's sake.

* * *

Love and Marriage: Chapter Five

* * *

The medium sized rock levitated improbably, just before it, equally improbably, exploded. Fragments scattered across the grass. Cedric paused in his quest of destroying the local rock population to tug his collar open. Even with his sleeves rolled up, he sweated in the humidity. He raised his wand again, intent on selecting another hapless victim, only to discover he's destroyed all those in the vicinity. Flecks of basalt surrounded his feet in a massacre of gravel.

Out of ammunition, he allowed his head to roll back with his eyes closed. The mist of Rainbow Falls helped cool his flushed face. How he ended up back here was a bit of a mystery, just that he'd left the cottage that morning needing to get out and wandered without destination until he found himself here. When he discovered that his feet had taken him to this picturesque vista where he should have let his wife unbutton his shirt. Where he should have known how to lay her pliant, willing body down on the cool grass and make love to her. Where he should have known how to please her. Instead he'd pushed her away and fled like a coward. The memory of yet another failure on his part had sent him into a frustrated snit. He'd taken out his rage on the innocent populous of volcanic rocks. Better than the flowers and the greenery, he supposed, though he hadn't counted them out yet.

No, the only thing that stayed his wand from laying waste to all the lovely beauty around him was Sofia. She'd be so disappointed to see such a place in ruins. The sun cleared the clouds for a moment, painting his surroundings bright for the first time in the long gloomy morning. It was getting late and he should be heading back. He shouldn't have left to begin with, but that couldn't be helped now.

The memory of the morning came on him unbidden, stirring heat in his groin. He'd woken with his arms around Sofia, all her softness and warmth pressed up against him. In any given moment she was temptation personified, but the sheer- _thing_ -she'd been wearing had his fingers twitching to touch her. The fabric, if it could be called even that, whispered against her skin, almost pleading to be slipped off. And when she shifted in her sleep, muttering a breathy moan, pressing herself tighter to his side, he was so hard it boarder on pain. He'd squirmed out of her embrace, fleeing before he could talk himself out of it. Until he could cool the stirring in his blood.

He wanted her. Still. Again. Despite causing her pain, twice now. He still wanted her. The desire felt beyond selfish, edging into depraved. How could he still wish to do those things to her when it hurt her so badly? He expected the first time wouldn't go great, especially for her. Perhaps he'd panicked a little, _rushed_ , but he hadn't expected her to scream. Scream, in pain, because of him. Which probably ranked as the worst moment in his life. In a close second were the following moments where his body realized that despite her cringing and whimpering, she felt fucking heavenly. Absolutely heavenly. Which sort of shut his brain off, sending all awareness to his groin. Perhaps he should see it as a godsend that he came almost immediately.

He didn't see it that way. Just perhaps he should.

It did save him from causing her further pain. At least until the second time, of which he could say approximately two positive things: One, she hadn't screamed, settling for a sharp, hissing breath through her teeth when he entered her. And, two, it lasted about twice as long, which still didn't qualify as _very_ long. Well, and a third thing, that she still felt _fucking-amazing_. Oh, and last but not least, what was less a positive and more a _gods-damned-bloody-miracle_ , she'd _wanted_ to do it again. How she could possibly, he had no clue, but at the time he hadn't been inclined to argue.

After the second time, though ...

He couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- do that to her again. Sofia, may the gods bless her perfect soul, was too altruistic for her own damn good. She'd keep _trying_ , for him. It couldn't be for her, because he was terrible at this, obviously. He knew what to do ... in theory. He had plenty of theoretical knowledge on the subject, just not any practice. And putting things in practice is where he proved a failure again and again. He knew a lot of things in theory, like how to make gold materialize from thin air, how to overthrow a kingdom, and that women, unlike men, were capable of having multiple orgasms. Again, in theory, because in practice he had no fucking clue how to make any of those things happen. Especially, and most importantly, the last. Theory was easy to understand, practical application was a bitch. And arousing his wife to heights of pleasure turned out to be most daunting and frightening thing of all. Perhaps because he cared the most about the outcome. He had no use for gold, it was shiny and expensive, but otherwise pretty useless to him. He'd long given up pursuit of a kingdom, knowing the dream was far more alluring than the reality. He had little use to spend his days sorting out peasant complaints and sighing documentation. But seducing his wife, making her moan, making her scream in pleasure, that he cared about. And when he cared about something, he tended to believe it was already out of his reach.

Despite knowing all that, despite believing it wholly, he Still. Bloody. Wanted. Her. He knew he was coming off as a complete and total ass, avoiding her, hiding like a coward, but he just couldn't seem to get control of his reactions to her. His cock stood up and took notice every time she walked in the room, paying no attention to his brain shouting, Down, you idiot! Don't you remember what happened the last time you decided to muck things up? But his cock was obviously a liar as well as an idiot, trying to convince him that things could only get better, and _Zeus'-Fucking-Xylophones-don't-you-remember-how-good-it-feels-to-be-inside-her?_

And he promptly had to tell his dick to shut the fuck up. Because if he couldn't get a hold of himself, then they were doomed. He'd seen it before. His parents _hated_ each other. It was no wonder his mother constantly begged/tried to guilt him into visiting, the two of them had nothing to say to each other. They married out of convenience, power, and, particularly on his mother's part, for political gain. Thank the gods for boarding school, because between waspish fights and frosty silence, his parent's marriage would turn the most diehard romantic against the institution. He had no notion of their- _shudder_ \- sex life, and he had no desire to know, but their communication skills were complete garbage, and they hadn't made much of an example for their children.

He didn't want his own marriage to go that way. Sofia loved him, which was patently astounding, and he owed her so much better than what he'd shown her the past few days. He owed her everything her heart desired. And if he couldn't provide in the bedroom, at least he could do better with all the rest. The notion that he should, perhaps, release her from this marriage hadn't really crossed his mind, because that would be altruism on his part, a character trait he didn't suffer from. _Much_. Just as he hadn't thought about dissolving his marriage for her sake. _Much_.

But he was just hurting her in other ways now. He was a coward, hiding from his own wife. Yesterday he'd read the same page approximately 156 times, too preoccupied with peeking at Sofia out the window. Over the top of the pages, he watched her lounge in the sun, then strip down to swim in the waves. What she wore, or rather didn't wear, for swimming had him locking himself in the washroom until he could, _get a handle_ on himself. Hunched forward, one hand braced against the door, the other stroking himself to the image of his wife's creamy, pale skin and luscious curves, proved equal parts alluring and distasteful. Alluring because the tangible memory of her soft skin and sweet scent coupled with the fresh image of her wading through the ocean dressed in the scantiest outfit he'd ever seen proved more potent than any fantasy he could have conjured. And distasteful because it felt shameful to think of her that way, to _use_ her that way. The shame hadn't come until afterwards, when he was panting, knees trembling, his still warm essence spattered over his hand and the floor. The mess was easily vanished with a wand wave, but the memory was harder to dismiss.

When she tried to talk to him after dinner, he thought his heart might give out:

"Cedric?"

"Hmm?" He'd noised, expecting his voice might crack like an adolescent's if he attempted to speak.

"Can I ask you something?"

He struggled not to fidget where he sat. "Sure."

"I was just wondering ..."

He sat frozen, waiting, wondering what she might say. His heart was in this throat, choking down all the things he should be saying to her: _I'm sorry. I love you. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing._ And, _please, please help me._

She was quiet for too long. He dared to peer over the edge of his book (what the hell was this book even about anyway?). Her eyes cast downward, her fingers twisting together. She looked so - uncertain. Sofia wasn't an uncertain kind of person. There wasn't an uncertain bone in her body. He put the book down, only holding his place out of habit, intensely curious what it was she wanted to say. "You were wondering, what?"

She blinked, seeming startled that he was even looking at her. It could never be said that when he failed, he didn't fail spectacularly. One day and he'd managed to shake her confidence. Bravo. Well done. "I- I was wondering if I could borrow your wand?"

That was not what he'd been expecting. "Oh. Why?"

"I want to take a bath. I'm all salty from the ocean."

The image of her in the bath tub, the desire to beg to join her- His groin twitched, reminding him of the inevitable ending. No, he wasn't doing _that_ to her.

"Yes, it's, um," he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to banish the image of her naked, soapy body. He took a deep breath that ended in a yawn, between the strained tension between them and a severe lack of sleep, he felt exhausted. After he'd touched her face and kissed her sleeping temple the night before, he hadn't slept but maybe a handful of fitful minutes all night. For a moment he honestly couldn't remember where his wand was. Oh, yes, he'd set in on the dresser after he'd needed it to, ah, clean up. Reminding him that she was better off without him harassing her. "I think I left it on the dresser."

"Thank you." She put her hand on his shoulder, bending down to kiss his cheek. His hands itched to slide into the silky fall of her hair. To caress her shapely waist. To draw her down into his lap. _And then what, moron?_ He didn't know what she'd like and he was too afraid to ask.

Her smile, a dull rendition of her usual white toothed grin, was _heartbreaking_. He looked at her a moment, wishing he knew what to do. All he could think was to give her hand a reassuring squeeze before he retreated back to the safety of his book turned shield.

 _What a coward he was. What a bloody fucking coward._

* * *

He trudged back to their cottage, arriving a little after mind-morning. He stared at the door a long time, before gathering courage to go in, wondering what he could possibly say to apologize for the absolutely wreak their honeymoon had become. But when he did do inside, Sofia wasn't there. For a moment he panicked, expecting she'd left heartbroken and angry, but then he saw her note. The paper had obviously been crumpled then smoothed back out. It was short and concise, saying she'd gone for a walk for some fresh air. He hung his head, knowing how hurt she must feel. Betrayed, even. Looking downward, he caught sight of something splayed across the floor. A book, flopped open, it's pages carelessly crumpled. Sofia never treated books with such disrespect, but it had obviously landed there after being flung up against the nearby chair. He bent to retrieve it, smoothing the pages out to close the cover. His eyebrows went up into his hairline at the title.

"The Pirate Captain's Wench?" He muttered. "What the hell?"

Sofia was more likely to be found reading a treatise on philosophy, or a classic novel. He recalled she'd been reading a book yesterday while lounging in the sun. Flipping it open, he skimmed a random page. It seemed to be some drivel about a Captain Black and some ninny-witted blond woman named Annabelle with perpetually heaving bosoms. His brow arched at the word, flipping further, discover a passage that held little redeeming social value. The book, he realized, was pure pornography, the plot of distant secondary importance. Even as he derided the juvenile prose, he couldn't seem to stop reading further, intrigued despite himself. If this book belonged to Sofia, was this what she wanted of him?

He took a furtive glance about, as if she were about to pop out of some hiding place, catching him reading such tawdry twaddle. But Sofia was out for a walk. He wandered over to the parlor, where the bay window gave him a view of anyone approaching down the path, and settled in a chair with his illicit contraband. He needed to pass the time somehow. Mere scholarly interest, that was all. He resumed the passage he's started, something about "Beau", as Annabelle was "breathlessly moaning" mouthing his way over the heroine's ample bosoms. Cedric flushed despite himself, of course thinking of his own wife's perfect breasts. He hadn't worked up the courage to touch her there, not sure if he should, though they were oh-so soft when pressed against his chest.

He wanted to touch her there. In truth, he wanted to touch her everywhere, but the things he wanted were often at odds with what others felt was proper behavior. Sometimes it seemed everything he did was wrong, or at least frowned upon, making him an outcast in every circle. In the bedroom he really had no idea what Sofia would like, what she wanted from him. But as line after line detailed out Beau closing his "hot mouth" over Annabelle's "rosy nipples" and "lavished them with his tongue", Cedric couldn't help picturing the scene playing out between him and his wife. Would she like that? It was in her book after all, suggesting that maybe, just maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. He kept reading, quickly becoming absorbed in every detail, wondering what else his wife might like.

Outside, dark clouds rolled in off the ocean and a cool breeze rustled the palm fronds. A thin trickle of air blew through the open window, across the damp nape of his neck, promising relief.

* * *

Over the course of the afternoon, her pile of books had shifted from one side of the table to the other as Sofia thumbed through each one. She squinted at the last book, her mind reeling with new-found knowledge. The words blurred before her eyes, making her blink, but the words remained fuzzy. She picked her head up, finally becoming aware of the world around her outside of her research. The library was very dark, the low light coming on suddenly, making reading nearly impossible. At just that moment Mrs. Imbry rounded the corner, a lantern in her hand.

"How'd you make out?"

"Great," Sofia smiled, feeling much more confident than when she came in. "Thank you very much. I knew I needed help, but," she waved her hand, indicating the stack at her side, "I had no idea how much there was to know."

"Never stop learning, never stop experimenting, never stop trying, that's my motto," the older woman winked, "About everything."

The princess laughed, ducking her head to hide the flush that came over her, thinking of "experimenting" with Cedric later.

"But, now, my dear, I think it's best if you head back to your hotel."

Sofia looked out the windows for the first time in hours. Black clouds blocked the sun completely. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Looks like we're in for a whopper of a storm. When it breaks, it's gonna break fast, so you best scoot back quick."

"Oh, but here, let me help you put theses away first."

"Very kind of you, but it's my job." Mrs. Imbry waved her off, holding a slender book out in her other hand. "I wanted to give you something."

Sofia took it, running her fingers over the gilt lettering on the cover. "The Kama Sutra?"

"We sell copies up front, but I thought I'd make this one a gift."

"Oh, but please, paying is no problem. I insists."

"No, no, you're a good soul, I can tell. We all just need a little help now and then. The problem is knowing when to ask for it."

Sofia's half-smile hinted at her chagrin. "A lesson I seem to need to learn over and over, I fear."

"Don't we all. Not you best hustle before the storm gets you."

She hesitated before throwing her arms about the librarian in a hug. "Thank you."

Mrs. Imbry patted her shoulder. "Not at all."

Outside of the library the wind was stronger than she expected. It tore at her skirt and made her glad she'd tied back her hair. Carefully, she wrapped her new book in her shawl to protect it from the rain. Already the first sprinkles fell on her arms and face. She set off for their cottage at a jog, ducking her head against the quickly gathering rainfall.

* * *

Author's note: I didn't mean to continue to leave you guys in suspense, but this chapter was getting too long. I decided to split this and chapter 6 into three chapters, to do full justice to the sexy bits. And who doesn't like full justice done to their sexy bits? :P

I know the next two chapters are the one you've been waiting for, but it might take me an extra day to update. I'll try to hurry. :)

As always, let me know what you think in a review. I eat them up like candy. :D


	7. Chapter 6

Author's Note: The consensus seems to be that you all really like reading Cedric's perspective. And I love writing him. I know I shouldn't play favorites, but, yeah, he's my favorite.

The best thing that happened to me today: I finally figured out how to do an em dash in Word. Yay!

So, anyone who has read my stories knows I love my song lyrics and poems. The inspiration throughout this fic has been listening to one song in particular about a hundred times:

So you get the lights and I'll lock the doors  
Let's say all of the things that we couldn't before  
Won't walk away, won't roll my eyes  
They say love is pain. Well, darling, let's hurt tonight  
If this love is pain, then, honey, let's love tonight

-OneRepublic, Let's Hurt Tonight

* * *

Love and Marriage: Chapter Six

* * *

Cedric paced. He'd abandoned the intriguing book when the light became too low to read. It didn't matter by then, he'd read every passage worth noting several times, stopping just shy of taking notes. While Captain Black's skillful command of "his wench's" body lay outside of Cedric's own ken of his wife's preferences, the prose did offer something of a map on how and when to employ certain _maneuvers_. One key notion he took to heart was that it took _several_ pages of lead up to the main event. The possibilities made him positively dizzy. Perhaps there was hope yet, if he could work up the courage to try. Right after he prostrated himself on Sofia's mercy and begged forgiveness for being an absolute ass.

But Sofia wasn't back yet. Thunder rumbled, louder than before. He gave the sky a worried glance.

The sound of someone knocking startled him out of his reverie. Panic lanced his heart; Sofia wouldn't need to knock. When he flung open the door, a porter stood on the porch, clutching his rain slicker closed in one hand, holding a hat down on his head with the other.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir," he bellowed over the growing wind, "But we are advising all guests to stay indoors until the storm passes."

"Like hell," Cedric grumbled, before telling the man, "My wife isn't here. I'm going out to find her."

"Please, Sir, it would be advisable that you—"

"Fuck, advisable! She could be caught in this." Cedric clenched his hands, his anger growing quickly among his anxiety. He didn't give a damn that this poor man had nothing to do with it.

"I'll notify the rest of the staff. We will look for her. If you'll just—"

But Cedric wasn't listening anymore. From down the curve of the path a form in white ran, her auburn head tucked down against the rain. Sofia ducked onto the porch, soaked through, holding something against her chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I got here as quickly as I could."

The porter visibly relaxed. "Yes, good. Well, if you could please just stay indoors until the storm passes."

"We will," Sofia promised, smiling contritely.

The man tipped them a slight bow before heading back out to alert the other guests. Sofia turned, her mouth open on another apology, but before she could get a word out Cedric had dragged against his chest, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"I was getting so worried."

"I'm sorry," she melted against him, touched by his concern. Water dripped off her nose. She didn't want him to let her go, but, "You're getting all wet."

"I get potions blown up in my face regularly, a little rain isn't going to kill me."

She snuggled into his chest, her mind spinning with all she'd read. The new book clutched in her hand made her fingers itch with curiosity, but now wasn't the time to examine it. Later. Perhaps they could even read it together, the idea making her warm. Cedric's hold eased, but she only pulled back enough to look up into his face.

Sofia gazed up at him with eyes as blue as the ocean itself. Little tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks, her lips wet with rain and blush pink. The hero of that damned book would sweep someone as delectable as her up, kissing her with breathtaking passion. Cedric didn't know how to sweep someone like Sofia off her feet, so he settled for leaning down towards her. She tipped her chin up immediately, eagerly even, surprising him by parting her lips at once. He answered her request, encouraged to realize that Sofia never refused a kiss, often initiating them. He plied his tongue across her lower lip before slipping inside her mouth. A sweet noise of agreement sounded from the back of her throat.

Still holding something in her bundled shawl, she ran her other hand up his back. Her warm, wet fingers slid over the naked skin at his neck, weaving into his hair in a caress that sent shivers racing down his spine. His member twitched to life at once, but he ignored it. This was enough for now. Kissing her was enough. He'd happily kiss her for hours if she wanted that. If it was _all_ she wanted, he'd do it.

The kiss changed without warning. When Sofia suddenly trapped his lower lip between both of hers, scraping gently with her teeth, he thought his knees might drop out from under him. Desire slammed through him, making his previously mild erection suddenly a much harder problem to ignore.

She struggled to go slowly, to not get carried away. Her time at the library, reading things, picturing doing those things, with him, it was hard not to get over excited. She wanted to try it all. When she tried laying a small love bite against his lip, he'd _groaned_. She assumed it to be a positive sound as his tongue delved back into her mouth, his arms tightening around her, chasing heat beneath her skin.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the sky blinding white, followed quickly by a boom of thunder so loud it shook the ground. The wind picked up, blowing rain in under the porch. The shock of it tore her from their kiss, back into reality. "I think we'd better go in."

He nodded, looking a bit dazed.

The little house was dark inside. Cedric picked up his wand, mostly as a means of distraction. Sofia's kisses had his blood boiling. So, he could devise that she liked kissing, but that didn't mean she wanted to do more. He muttered a spell, lighting the candles and lanterns scattered around, filling the room with a gentle amber glow. Outside the storm raged, pelting rain against the windows, whipping palm fronds in the wind. Thunder and lightning crashed again.

Sofia set her book on the table, next to her ... other book? She blushed, realizing Cedric must have found it on the floor. But she couldn't give it much thought just now. Her heart beat wildly, her lips still tingling. Heat trembled throughout her limbs, making certain places throb and others ache. When she turned, Cedric was looking at her with what she could only describe as _hunger_. It put a hitch in her breath, adding fuel to the slowly kindling fire in her belly. She wondered how she must look, her eyes wide and wild, lips parted, breath coming fast. Her white sundress was soaked through in several places, plastered to her like a second skin.

He blinked, looking down and away. Released from the hold of his golden hazel eyes, _Merciful Gods she loved his eyes_ , she struggled to remember all she'd learned, what she meant to impart to him.

 _Talk_ , she reminded herself, they needed to talk first. Desire didn't appear to be a problem, as she feared it might be on his part, so she put aside any information based on that assumption. There was nothing for it, she just had to take a deep breath and jump. "I was at the library."

"The ...?" He blinked, seeming to come back to himself. "The library?"

"I was...," Communication, that was the key. "I was doing some research. About, about sex."

For a long moment he simply stared, not saying anything at all. She forced herself on, "It occurred to me, you see, that I didn't know much about it. And it's become clear, or I think it's become clear, that we need to talk about it." Her face felt like it was on fire. "The sex, that it. We need, that is, I don't—" she had to pause when her voice cracked, tears filling her eyes unexpectedly. She dropped her head, letting the fall of her hair shield her. "I don't like the way things have become between us. I don't want it to go one like this, so I thought if I, perhaps, was a little more educated on the subject— "

She stopped talking because Cedric closed the distance between them in two swift strides, squeezing her in another fierce hug. "I'm sorry," he mumbled against her neck. "I'm sorry for the ways things have been. I- I'm just sorry."

"It's alright," she soothed her hands down his back, taken aback by the emotion in his voice after two days of aloofness. "But things can't go on like this. We need to talk to each other."

"I know. I wanted to talk to you, I just—"

"Didn't know how," she supplied.

He nodded against her shoulder. And, was he trembling? "Men my age are supposed to know what they're doing, aren't they? I wanted to tell you. I should have, but ..."

She pulled back to look at him, but he closed his eyes. Sighed.

"I didn't know how to tell you that you're the first. My first, that is."

"Oh!" She blinked, realizing that she should have known that. It explained so much. Made so much sense. He was floundering as much as she was. They were the same, on equal footing. The sudden change of perspective made her weak with relief. It made her feel so much better about everything. "You should have told me."

"I know. It's just ... I mean, a thirty-five year old virgin is just embarrassing."

"No, it's not." She nuzzled her nose against his neck, drawing a strangled sound from him. The notion that they'd lost their virginity together satisfied all her romantic notions of true love. "It's sweet."

He huffed, disbelieving. "Only you would think so."

"So? I'm your wife. My opinion on the subject is the only one that matters."

He looked down at her sure expression, realizing she was right. Her opinion was the only one that mattered and she was taking the news much better than he'd expected. Happy about it even. "I suppose it is."

"But," she allowed, "perhaps we should have practiced a bit more before we got married."

"P-practiced?" His right eyebrow went up. Just the right, sending an absurd flutter through her stomach. "I thought, I _assumed_ you'd want to wait until we were married."

She shrugged. "Once I knew I loved you, being married didn't seem to be a requirement anymore. I would have done anything you wanted, but I was too afraid to suggest it. And you never pushed the issue. You were always so gentlemanly about it."

He laughed, some of the tension easing from him. "That's one way to say 'utterly terrified'."

She smiled gently back. "So, we'll practice now. Anything we should have or could have done is in the past. All we can do is move forward."

"Yes," he grumbled," If I were you I'd certainly want to forget everything that's happened so far."

"That's not what I'm saying at all," she snapped, hating the way he so casually maligned himself. "We just need a change of tactic."

"I'm sensing you have a plan," his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. "You have that look in your eye. That uniquely Sofia determined look."

"Well, I didn't spend hours at the library for nothing."

"Yes," he drawled, his hands caressing her hips, "I suppose accurate information is sight better than the exploits of your Captain Beauregard."

"My, what?" She squinted, uttered confused. "Oh! You found Amber's book. And read it, apparently."

"Parts of it were ... intriguing," he hedged.

"For you, maybe. The heroine just sat back, all wishy-washy while the man did all the work. I didn't like it." The corners of her mouth turned down in a frown. "I thought that was how sex was supposed to be. But, I realized, I don't want it to be like that. I want to ... participate."

A fresh bolt of lust shot to his groin at her declaration. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "I think we could both do with a little more participation. I feel— I _know_ , I went too fast for you those first times." He hung his head, voice dropping to a shamed whisper. "I didn't know what else to do, to prepare you better."

"Yes, about that," heat rushed into her face again, "We need, um, that is, I need more ... In the books they called it foreplay."

"For- _what_?"

She plucked at the buttons of his shirt to keep her hands busy. "Well, you see women take a little more time to become aroused than men."

"I can believe that," he snorted.

She blinked up in surprise. He was taking all this with an aplomb she hadn't anticipated. "You can?"

"Well, speaking from personal experience," his thumb brushed circles over her lower back, making her feel relaxed and warm. Increasingly warm. "It pretty much takes of all ten seconds for me to get aroused, especially around you."

"Me?" She swallowed, wondering at the unbelieving look on his face, as if surprised that she'd ever doubt such a thing. "It's just that the past few days you haven't shown much interest in me. I thought, perhaps, you," it was so painful to say aloud that she nearly choked on the words, "didn't want me."

"Merlin's—" He grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Every time I've turned away from you these past few days, it wasn't because I didn't want you. It was because I did. So very badly, but I didn't want to—" His voice shook down the center, the words as difficult to say as hers had been. "I knew you wouldn't say anything against it. You'd endure whatever fumbling on my part, no matter that I was hurting you."

His voice turned hard with self-recrimination, his expression dismayed. She wouldn't let him spiral into darkness alone, not when part of his guilt could be laid at her feet. She brought her hands up to touch his face. "You're right, I wouldn't have said anything. But I realize now that _not_ saying anything was hurting us both. So I promise you from here on out to say something, to tell you if I don't like anything. But I need you to believe me when I say, there isn't much I can imagine you doing that I won't like."

"You're younger than me. I've had longer to imagine."

She bit her lip, the sparkle in her eye made his breath catch. "I don't know about that. Just last night I imagined you touching me in the bathtub."

He froze at that unexpected confession, swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat.

She watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. Should she be telling him this? She wanted to, so she decided to give it a try. "I imagined it was you doing it while I, while I touched myself."

She cringed inwardly, unbelieving that she had just told him that. He stared for so long that she feared he was trying to think of something to say to break the awkwardness. Instead, she felt herself hauled forward, against his chest as he kissed her hard on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around him on instinct, pressing against him. Something firm and warm pressed against her belly. When he pulled away, he was breathing hard.

"Since we're being honest, I suppose this is the part where I tell you that I had to do much the same after I saw you in that contraption you call a bathing suit."

"Really?" She crinkled her pert nose. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked delighted to hear it. "But you weren't even outside with me."

He flushed, his cheeks darkening. "I may have taken a look out the window."

"So seeing me dressed like that made you excited?"

"Seeing you _undressed_ like that made me excited. But, then," he brushed his hand over her cheek, "Everything you do gets me excited. All you have to do is walk in the room and I'm half-way hard."

She blushed, oddly entranced to hear that she gave him an erection. Her, and not just in the bedroom. She couldn't help but ask, "How about now?"

"You mean you can't tell?"

"Oh!" She realized what was pressed against her stomach. Gods, could she be less sophisticated about this? Intrigued, she pressed further against him, making his eyes close and his breath hitch. She watched him, entranced that she had such an effect on him.

"So," he cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of sanity, "We've established that I don't need much, what did you call it?"

"Foreplay," she whispered, surprising herself with a low note thrumming in her voice. She sounded down-right _sultry_.

"Yes, right," he swallowed, his arms tight and strong around her. "So, how would you like to proceed with this _foreplay_?"

She tried not to become distracted by the note in _his_ voice. "Um, I'm not really sure. I'm not entirely certain what it is I'll like. Some experimentation might be in order." She swallowed her pulse back down, offering what she could in the midst of so much uncertainty. "I just need more time to—"

"Time is fine," he agreed at once, unintentionally cutting her off. "We can wait as long as you need. If you don't want to do ... _that_. We can do whatever you like. Or," here he couldn't quite hide a wince, "Or nothing at all if you prefer."

"Cedric," she laid her fingertips over his lips to stop his rambling, "I do want to do _that_. I just meant, I need more time before we do _that_. Just so we're both clear," her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, " _That_ is the part where you're ... where you're inside me."

He made a noise then that might have been a whimper.

"I just need more before that part. More touching, more kissing. I need time to get fully, um, aroused."

He looked down on her flushed cheeks, her full, pouting lips. She wanted him to— And he wanted— But she needed more from him. Just as he'd suspected. He breathed through a fresh rush of desire.

"I can do that. I'll do anything you want."

* * *

Author's Note: I'll try to shoot for an update tomorrow, but Wednesday at the latest.

Please feed the starving author with plenty of reviews. :)


	8. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews, and your continued readership. :)

* * *

Love and Marriage: Chapter Seven

* * *

"I'll do anything you want."

Sofia doubted she needed much foreplay after that. _Those_ words, said in _that_ voice, with such earnest sincerity. Her thighs squeezed together on a throb. "Well," she offered, "I think the obvious place to start is with more kissing. I know I rather enjoy it, and you're very good at it."

His face quirked into a disbelieving expression. "I am?"

"Very," she asserted, tipping her chin up to him.

He took her offer, kissing her softly at first, almost shyly. Heat simmered in his veins, throbbing through his groin, but he kept the pace deliberately slow. Given the first two outcomes, he was slightly awed by her trust in him. For once, he was determined to validate that trust. He could do this, because it wasn't about him. This was about her. Maybe he did suffer from a little altruism after all.

Sofia was certainly enjoying his languid pace, but she soon craved more. She slanted her mouth over his, coaxing his innocent kisses to melt into long, deeper caresses of lips and tongue. Sliding a hand round the back of his neck, she ensured that he wouldn't do anything so foolish as stop. She was on fire, recognizing that her arousal lay mostly in her mind. They'd barely begun, but his willingness seemed to have unlocked something inside her. Heat flashed through her belly, building in her blood. After several long minutes of kissing, nothing _but_ kissing, she managed to pull away long enough to mumble, "Touching, I like touching too."

His breath chased over her lips, making them tingle. "Where?"

"Let's start with everywhere, and I'll let you know."

"That's quite the order to fill," he said, but teasingly.

"What's the matter, World's Greatest Sorcerer, not up to the job?"

"I'll show you who's up for the job," he grumbled before kissing her again. Harder this time. She made a noise in the back of her throat, enjoying the building intensity. Outside the storm began to soften, the thunder growing quiet in the distance, but the rain still poured.

His hands smoothed up her back, warm where they teased over the bare skin between her shoulders. His tongue swirled around hers in a slow dance as his fingertips skated up her spine. She sighed against his lips, finally getting a taste of the contact she hungered for, but it wasn't nearly enough. Slipping her hands between them, she went for the buttons of his shirt. This time he didn't stop her, letting her work each one free. He sucked in a breath when her hands brushed over his bare shoulders, pushing his shirt off. He shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. "Should we, perhaps ..."

She followed the direction of his gaze towards the bedroom, but shook her head, lips quirking on an uncharacteristic smirk. "No." She tugged him towards the couch. "Here."

"Um, alright," was all he could mumble before her lips were over his again. He felt in no position to argue, not when her fingers were running delicious trails up and down his chest.

While she explored him, she felt his hands move round her waist, over the thin cotton of her dress. When they neared her breasts, she felt like her body was screaming, _Yes! There, please_. But he hesitated, stopping on her ribs. She wiggled closer, trying to press against him in encouragement, but his hands stayed frustratingly still.

 _Communication_ , she reminded herself. But could she really tell him that? Simply announce that she wanted him to touch her breasts? The words suck in her throat. Instead, she placed a hand over one of his, guiding him to where she wanted him to be. She felt him swallow, gulping as his finger tentatively kneaded the soft flesh. When his thumb swept over her nipple, she sucked in a shuttering breath.

"Good?" He asked, his eyes wide and unsure.

She pressed into his hand. "Very good."

He stroked her nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch. He was doing this to her. Him. Making his wife squirm and shutter. He closed his thumb and forefinger in the gentlest pinch, squeezing the firm bud. Her eyes fluttered closed as she made a surprisingly favorable sound. Once he'd begun, finally believing that she was as eager for his touch as he was to bestow it, he couldn't seem to stop. He laid his lips against her throat, kissing the thrumming pulse there. "I think it would feel even better if we took this off?"

It was certainly a question, but Sofia didn't waste any time in answering. Her fingers flew to the buttons down the front of her dress, working them open before peeling the wet fabric away. The slip-thing underneath stuck to her, putting nearly all of her on brazen display. The flimsy material hugged every curve, accentuating the pink discs of her nipples and the dark triangle of curls between her thighs. Cedric's eyes swept over her, riveted.

"Do you like it?" She flushed, smoothing her hands down over her thighs. "I bought it in town. The woman said something about it being sexy and I just—" She trailed off in an embarrassed mumble as he continued to stare.

"No, I—," he cleared his throat, "I like it. I like it very much. Sorry, I just, I don't think there's any blood left in my brain at the moment."

Her nervous laugh and fragile smile helped ease the tension. He came close again, and Sofia had to lean back against the couch to support her trembling legs. Cedric reached out, safely caressing the rain slicked softness of her arm. When he came upon the strap of her negligee, he traced it downward. She pulled him into another kiss, mewling against his lips when the warmth of his palm cupped her breast through the thin, damp material.

"Yes," she moaned, "That feels good."

"Which part? The kissing or—"

"All of it." She knotted her fingers through his hair, urging him back to her. A dizzying heat pour through her veins, but she felt downright faint when his lips moved over her neck, going lower. She pushed her chest up in invitation, leveraging her weight back against the couch for balance. When he dipped his head, laying his lips against her chest just above the top of her slip, she shrugged the strap off her shoulder wanting to feel him there.

He hooked a finger between the wet fabric and her skin, peeling it away from her breast. When his mouth, hot and wet, covered the aching tip she distantly heard her own voice murmuring, "Yes," over and over. His tongue flicked, and his lips pulled, and _Oh gods_ , the nerve straining scrape of his teeth. She arched into it all, offering more of herself to the blissful feeling.

Sofia was making noises he'd never imagined, desperate, needy sounds. He cursed himself for a fool. He should have talked to her sooner, asked for her help. To Sofia everything was an adventure. Something to be fully explored, and sex was proving no different. And he very much wished to explore _all_ of her. Listening to every sound, he found that it wasn't difficult to decipher what she liked. Emboldened by her panting breaths and grasping fingers, he dared to draw the other strap down, baring her chest completely. When he switched his attention to her other breast, she keened, burrowing both hands into his hair, holding him to her.

"Oh, please," she breathed, "I want— I need—" Her hand grasped wildly at one of his, pushing it downward as she hitched her hips up. "Touch me, please," she whimpered.

Cedric couldn't deny her unabashed plea, sliding his hand over her belly, towards her thighs. His fingers pressed through her silky curls, over the softest skin he'd ever felt, like satin and velvet, but finer. He tracked up and down the length of her folds, finding a dewy wetness that softened the slide of his fingertips, easing their passage to a smooth elegance. Sofia panted, huffing out little moans. When his fingers moved up and over some knot of flesh, she jerked in his arms.

"That!" She pushed into his hand. "Do that again, please."

He tried to find the elusive spot, but her lip-biting whine told him he'd lost it. He pulled away from her breast with reluctance. "I need you to help me."

"Um, okay," her voice shook, even as she squirmed. "Not quite ... up a little ... little more to the le- There! Right there! _Sweet merciful gods—_ "

His eyebrows lifted. He seemed to have found some magic spot that rendered his wife completely insensible. Except now that he'd found it, he wasn't sure what to do with it. Experimentally he tracked his finger up over the little nub, soft at first, then adding a slight pressure. Sofia groaned, hitching her hips forward. _Interesting_. He tried modifying his approach, circling around and over."Like this?"

"Yes," she panted, her eyes pressed tight. "Just like that."

Her legs trembled and she rested her forehead against his throat. Her fingers curled, nails biting his skin as she writhed, losing sense of everything but the sensation of his fingers. Her hips moved of their own accord, undulating against his hand. She began to tense and shake.

At just that moment he remembered a particular passage that he'd read, intriguing, but far more intrusive that he would have dared. But, Sofia was trembling, clutching him, lost in his touches. He didn't know if he should ... but then, she said there wasn't anything she could imagine him doing that wouldn't feel good . And he had gotten the idea from _her_ book. He left the little button of flesh, sliding his fingers down the length of her lips, following the natural track of her body as one of his fingers dipped _inside_ her. The shock of it had her arching into his touch, making a startled sound.

"Is this alright?" He breathed into her ear.

She managed a nod, snaking her arms around his neck, _clinging_ to him.

She licked her lips, her neck arching back. _Oh fuck_. Okay, he could do this. He _was_ doing this. Slowly, he withdrew his finger before pressing back in, mimicking what his body throbbed for. But he owed her this, for all his crude, impatient intrusion before. He owed her every bit of pleasure it was in his power to dispense.

Her body was absolutely sublime, elegantly made for receiving pleasure. With each pass she grew slicker, wetter, and he knew he could dare to go a little faster, press a little deeper. Her hips rose to meet him, not just accepting pleasure, but demanding more. The sounds she made— shivery, breathless noises that wrapped them both in a web of anticipation, until she held her breath, arms tensing, hips rocking to the rhythm of his hand. For a long moment she teetered on the edge. He pressed his luck, carefully easing a second finger inside.

It was exactly what she needed. The orgasm crashed over Sofia like a riptide, reaching out and dragging her under. Pleasure rippled through her in waves, unstoppable, inescapable, leaving her gasping. Coming around _his_ fingers proved wholly different from her self-explorations. The pleasure left her breathless and dizzy, adding to the rasp of her aching nipples against his chest, the warmth of his neck beneath her panting, parted lips. The full length of her body pressed into him, immobile expect for the fine tremble in her limbs and the wet, warm throbbing of her sheath around his hand.

When her shudders of pleasure eased, her eyes blinked slowly open. Cedric stared at her, looking like a man who had just witnessed a miracle. "Oh, I think I could do this all day," he breathed.

"I think I could let you," she tittered, flushed and glowing. "You do know that I can ... That is women can—"

"Yes," he kissed her shoulder, nuzzling against her skin. His fingers began moving again, making her gasp, "That, I did know."

"Oh," her voice shivered down the middle. Need, hot and aching, coiled tight in her belly. Cedric watched her, his eyes focused and dark, flicking over every expression of pleasure as it passed over her face. "Kiss me," she begged.

He did, slow and throughout, even as his fingers gained speed. Sparks danced behind her eyes, through her flesh. The second orgasm came on quicker, easier, _fiercer_. Her fingers curled at the back of his neck, holding him to her as she kissed him erratically, trembling all over.

She could let him do this all day, it was heavenly. But her legs wobbled, threatening to drop from under her. Warmed all over, she was no longer content with this slow, careful pace. She wanted _him_. She shimmied out of her bedraggled slip, then reached for the buckle of his pants. "These need to come off," she growled in an unfamiliar voice, thick and husky with need, "Now."

He gulped, torn between staring at her brazen nudity or recognizing that she was rather incessantly stripping him of his pants. "W-we don't have to—"

"Oh, we are going to," she insisted, her conviction sending a rush of pure lust shooting to his groin. Despite her certainty, her fingers fumbled with the buttons. Still, she pressed on, pushing his loosened waistband down, making his trousers fall. He kicked them off.

She eyed his black underwear, or rather the prominent line of his erection straining against the cloth. His eyelids fluttered when she brushed her hand over him, licking her lips. "I want to see you."

She'd been so brave, letting him explore her; he supposed this was his turn to return the favor. He out a long, slow breath, then jerked that last bit of clothing quickly down his hips and off. He'd closed his eyes, not sure he could endure her reaction, whatever it might be. To his mind, he was nothing impressive to look at. When her warm fingers encircled him unexpectedly, he gasped, his knees going weak.

"Did you know," she said, her voice curling on the clinical, but with a lilt of devious intent, "According to my research, the average man is 5.1 inches erect."

She tested a loose stroke up and down his length, sending shocks of sensation shooting through him. Was he supposed to be paying attention to what she was saying? Filing this information away? Because he could barely think. Why was she telling him this right now?

Her hand swept upwards, her thumb brushing across the tip. His knees wobbled. "And you ...," _Great gods, was she still talking?_ "My husband ...," her hand pumped back down, holding him at the base, and ... _Poseidon's Pumpkins_ , her other hand encircled him, gently squeezing. He was going to die. Or explode. Or explode and then die. "Are on the larger side of average."

He opened his dazed eyes to find her sitting on the couch, his cock held securely in her grasp. She gazed up at him with a naughty sparkle in her blue eyes. "No wonder it hurt the first time," she giggled. _Giggled_. About him hurting her. Apparently he was supposed to be proud of this new information, but it only made him that much more upset that he hadn't know how to better prepare her.

The look in his eyes must have sobered her because she stopped smiling. Letting go of him, she placed her hands on his hips, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. "It's alright, Cedric. It happened. It's in the past. We're moving forward. Aren't we?"

He swallowed, his throat constricting. "I don't— I can't bear to ... hurt you again."

Her heart swelled; he was so very sweet and no one knew but her. She leaned forward, kissing the ridge of his hipbone. "You won't," she promised. Her lips traced the furrowed line leading from his hip, down and in towards his groin. Her breath whispered over him like fire. "You know, I read some of the most delightful suggestions about using your mouth on ... various places."

When the moist temptation of her lips edged inward, he grasped her shoulders, holding her back. "Nugh! I can't— You really can't— If you want any hope of me getting inside you, then you can't do that just now."

She bit her lip, this time the gesture added a devious glint to the sparkle in her eyes. "Later, then. But I will be giving that a try."

He couldn't speak, his pupils wide, making his eyes impossibly dark. She wanted to ... do that, to him? And it sounded like she'd be very much willing to let him reciprocate. He licked his lips, managing a nod. Yes, they could certainly try that, but later, much later. Right now, he wanted ... needed ...

"Then, that means now," Sofia gazed up at him, her hands roaming up over his chest, curling around his shoulders, drawing him down. She laid back along the length of the couch, bringing him over top of her. A haze of pleasure swelled through her when he knelt between her legs. "Please, I want _you_."

"Sofia, are you su—"

"Very," she interrupted, pressing her hips up with impatience. "Trust me."

She opened her legs wider, fighting down the embarrassment that told her to hide from him. He leaned down, one hand braced on the back of the couch, taking himself in hand. She reached up, stroking a thumb across his cheek as he pushed carefully forward. Her head fell back on a decadent moan. Now that was— That was just lovely. But he was going so slowly, holding back.

She opened her smoky gaze on his face, licking her lips. "More."

Her breathy command, the look in her eyes— burning with pure need, for him— nearly tore away any concentration not to go off the moment he got inside her. He looked down on her, hopeful and afraid, tension strumming through every line as he sank further into her. He braced himself on his elbows, daring to withdraw and thrust forward, gaining confidence with each pass, with each murmur of pleasure from her.

"Oh, _yes_ ," she breathed, "That feels ..."

Words seemed to have left her, but he had to know. "How does it feel?"

Her hands stroked down his back in a caress that had him arching into her touch. "Good," she murmured, "Great. Wonderful." She canted her hips up, taking him in fully. Her voice rumbled out in a guttural groan, "Perfect."

He would suspect her of hyperbole, if he still possessed the ability to think. She contracted around him, tight and warm, not to mention wet. Her arousal eased his passage and they slid against each other with a divine friction. Gods, at this rate he didn't have a prayer of lasting longer than a few minutes. As if a test of his patience, her muscles _squeezed_ him. His eyes rolled back and he hung his head, gasping. Before his mind could catch up, his hips were moving, running on pure need.

Sofia gasped underneath him. He pried his eyes open to find her own shut tight, her skin flushed all the way down to her breasts. But it wasn't enough that she was free of pain, that she was enjoying it, he wanted to make her _come_.

"Tell me what you need," he panted, patently surprised that he could speak at a time like this.

She shook her head, but restlessly, as if not quite aware of what she did. "I don't know," she whined. "I don't know. More ... just, more."

She couldn't tell him, so he was going to have to come up with something on his own. Okay, he could do this. He sank further against the couch, his hips grinding deeper than he ever would have thought to dare. She moaned, making undeniable sounds of approval. His knee trailed off the edge of the cushions, so he planted his foot on the floor for leverage, adding force to the depth of his thrusts. Sofia squealed, suddenly clutching at his shoulders. He froze at once, alarm shooting down his spine.

"No!" She wailed. "Don't stop! Good, it's good—" she babbled when he dared to regain his rhythm, "Oh! _Very good_."

Her body began to _react_. To clench and stroke and _Merlin's. Motherfucking. Goddamned. Mushrooms._

"I'm so close, love," he gasped, "I can't..."

She understood, nodding, unable to form words.

He wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to— But he wanted— In desperation, he reached down between their joined hips, searching.

Sofia's eyes shot wide when his fingertips found that magical, elusive knot of pleasure hidden in her folds. Heat spiraled through her, coupled with electricity. _Oh, you clever, clever man_. And he was hers. All hers. And this was only their first real try.

But none of that mattered just now, because he was stroking her inside and out, his fingertips driving her faster, shooting her straight into an abyss of pleasure. His hips stuttered as he cursed, and all of a sudden, somehow, he felt larger inside her, pulsating against her walls. She broke, screaming out a wild shout of raw pleasure that scorched her throat. She clutched at his shoulders, arching, straining, meeting the throbbing of his body with pulses of her own.

They hung there, frozen for an eternity. Her arched up against him, him bowed down over her, their breath mingling. Sofia pried her eyes open just as Cedric's own lashes fluttered, meeting her gaze in a moment of connection, deeper and more powerful than any vows. She splayed her fingers across his cheek, her heart swelling with love. His forehead dropped against hers, his arms trembling. "Oh gods, Sofia—"

She collapsed back against the cushions and Cedric collapsed on top of her. They panted together, neither able to catch their breath.

He recovered his composure first. Swallowing, breathing hard. "Did you just—?"

"Uh huh." She managed to nod, fighting for breath. Pressing her lips to his neck, she groaned, "Oh, we will _definitely_ be doing this more often."

Blessedly he took some of his weight onto his elbows so he could look down on her. "Thank the listening gods I'm not the only one thinking that."

"Oh, no," she purred, her breath catching on a latent throb of pleasure, "In fact, we can do nothing but this from now on."

His chest rumbled against hers when he laughed, causing the most delightful sensations as he was still inside her. "I don't know what your research told you, but men do need some time between rounds."

"I may have read that, yes."

He looked down on her pleased and smiling face. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair in a wild tangle. He'd done that, because of her. Because of the love and trust she inexplicably placed in him. "Great Gods, you're amazing."

"No," she cocked her eyebrow in the way he was often want to do, "Just resourceful and persistent."

"Neither being characteristics I possess, so still amazing to me." He leaned down, giving her a long and thorough kiss. When he pulled back she sighed happily. She really did enjoy his kisses. Though, they'd just finished, he was already wondering where else she might enjoy being kissed.

He eased his softening flesh out of her with some reluctance. Sofia hummed, still holding him tightly, so he laid his head against her chest, hearing the slowing drum of her heartbeat. She carded her fingers through his hair. "I love you."

What had he ever done to deserve her? He thanked any listening deity for the day he gathered up all his paltry courage, proposing to a woman who by all rights should have never accepted. Except that she amazingly found something worthwhile in him. Something worth loving. He turned his head, kissing her beating heart. "I love you too," he whispered, deciding that he'd never again shut her out or push her away. From here on he'd spend the rest of his life ensuring that she never regretted the decision to marry him. To trust him. To love him.

Surely he'd have his work cut out for him, and part of him balked, believing it a hopeless task. But with her pliant, satiated body in his arms, anything seemed possible.

* * *

Author's Note: Sex! Yay. Sometimes awkward, but ultimately gratifying sex. As sex is often want to be. :) Just an epilogue to go now before I can get back to all the other things I should be writing. :P Let me know what you think by kindly leaving a review.


	9. Epilogue

Love and Marriage: Epilogue

* * *

"Sorry to disturb you, Madam," the man in a white linen suit cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the woman who had opened the door, "But I regret to inform you that due to the inclimate weather, a travel ban has been issued. No flying carriages can take off or land until the storm front clears."

"Oh," the petite young lady with pretty auburn hair blinked her blue eyes at him. The concierge straightened his shoulders, reminding himself to remain professional. Even as the guest pursed her lips adjusting the robe clutched closed at her throat. She hid half way behind the door, but he could still tell from the soft curves molded by satin that she'd thrown it on over her nakedness. Her flushed cheeks and rumpled hair suggested what activities had precluded her rush to answer the door. This scene was really no different from a half-dozen others he'd witnessed in his rounds to inform his guests about the hitch in the weather. "How many days will it be?" She asked, drawing him back to the conversation at hand.

"It appears you will have to stay an extra day, perhaps two, until the skies clear."

"Well, if that's what's best," she shrugged, but the glint in her eyes suggested she wasn't the least bit bothered by the news. Happy about it in fact.

"Yes," he coughed, "Well, someone will notify you when the ban is lifted. Have a pleasant day and we hope you are enjoying your stay at Carruba Bay."

"Oh, I am," she flashed a wide, white smile, before closing the door.

He heard the lock slide home before she padded off, no doubt back to her husband. "Lucky bastard," he muttered under his breath, steeling himself for whatever scene awaited him at the next cottage.

* * *

Sofia carried two cups of coffee into the bedroom, one black and one lace with enough sugar to, in her mind, choke a horse. She nudged aside the open copy of the Kama Sutra to set them down on the bedside table. Her fingers trailed over Cedric's bare shoulder where he laid splayed across the bed, naked except for a thin strip of sheet across his backside.

"Who was that?" He grumbled, his voice muffled into the pillows.

Sofia slipped off her robe, climbing onto the bed. The sky outside remained a solid curtain of pewter clouds, drizzling constantly. They'd been trapped inside with no means of distraction from each other for two solid days. Sofia had never been so happy to see so much rain in her life. She leaned down to kiss his lower back while her hand drifted lower, giving his adorable behind a pinch.

"Hey!" He yelped, but didn't move away. Sofia suspected he lacked the energy.

Between kisses up his spine, she told him the news. "There's no travel until the storm breaks. Looks like we're stuck here for a few more days."

She took his ear between her lips, nibbling lightly before caressing the edge with her tongue, a weakness she'd discovered just that morning. Her breasts pressed warmly against his back. She'd also discovered that contrary to her original assumptions, Cedric _loved_ to be touched. By her. Everywhere, and at all times, whether it was a subtle caress on the face, sleeping with their limbs tangled together, or any subtle, salacious touch across his naked skin.

"Oh, no," he murmured, turning over onto his back, "However shall we pass the time?"

She went back to his ear and he raised her wrist to his lips, kissing, licking, nibbling her pulse, a weak spot he'd discovered last night in the bath. He'd discovered so many sensitive place on her, especially when they got out of the bath, only making it as far as the floor beside it. And she discovered her new favorite sight, looking down to run her fingers through his bi-colored hair as he applied the use of his tongue and lips between her thighs. He really was the most _wonderful_ kisser.

Sofia moved her leg over him, straddling his lap. His quickening manhood pressed warmly against her thigh. She wiggled against it, making his eyes roll closed as he groaned.

"Oh," she said, a sly smile stretching her lips, "I'm sure we can think of something."

 _\- The End -_

* * *

Author's Note: So what did you think of my angsty little fic? And hey, look, I managed to make a posting schedule and (mostly) stick to it. I only added one unintended chapter. Yay for finishing a story!

Thank you all for your reviews and your readership. You guys are awesome and the reason I keep posting the crazy business that runs through my head. Not sure what to expect coming down the pipeline next. I know I've got a few stories to finish (Intoxication and Into the Darkness), some promised sequels to deliver on, and a whole story for my bits and pieces vampire fic Thirst running rampant round my brain. Right now I'm a little down and out with a head cold, but you'll be hearing from me again soon. Love to you all! :D


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